Wolf's Prey
by Meikumo
Summary: Rated PG-13 for language. Hinted shounen-ai, may become more than hinted later. Fourth chapter is up! (I know, after like a year)
1. Eyes of the Wolf

Disclaimer - I do not own any of the characters from Rurouni Kenshin. They were born form the imagination of Watsuki Nobuhiro. After all "No one owns a Miburou!" Or a roosterhead. But the former sounded cooler, even though I didn't come up with it.  
  
He told me he was an apothecary.  
  
I didn't believe it for a moment. No matter how many years one spent gripping a pestle, it would not create the calluses covering that man's hands. And his eyes...he had the eyes of a hungry predator, looking for its next meal. Golden irises swirling around the black pits of his pupils. They concealed all the war and slaughter he had seen throughout the years behind a cynical smirk.  
  
I could lose myself in eyes like those.  
  
This man...this Fujita Gorou...had me at a disadvantage. He knew of me...my reputation on the street, but it was more than that. It was as though his eyes could pierce through my very soul, to learn my every thought, desire, weakness.  
  
Fujita-san was a dangerous man. And he was after Kenshin. Meanwhile, I was in his way. No, not even something that significant. He was to leave me as a warning to Kenshin. Just some sign, to be carelessly tacked up for others to view.  
  
He made my blood boil . His arrogance, that I, Sagara Sanosuke, was just some object to be used in his little grudge against Kenshin. I would wipe that smirk off his face. He'd regret ever coming here.  
  
The blow hit him cleanly, burrowing into his cheekbone. There was no sound of bones cracking, but I had not intended there to be. Once this bastard knew what he was up against, he'd hopefully be smart enough to retreat quietly. And that would be the end of it.  
  
His eyes snapped open, and he fixed me with the most demented grin I'd ever seen. The punch hadn't affected him at all. It would be an understatement to say that I'd been shell-shocked. That's when it hit me: the shit had really hit the fan this time.  
  
The sword moved so quickly up and forward that I didn't even have time to react to it. Besides the blade piercing my shoulder, the momentum carried both me and the man flying backwards and through the paper-thin walls of the dojo. The sword, being a cheap modern weapon, was unable to take the force exerted on it, and it snapped. Now things would get interesting.  
  
Fujita seemed unbothered that I was up on my feet within seconds, and that this time he would face me unarmed. Once again, he moved lightning-fast, stepped through my guard, and with a blow with the heel of his palm, he drove the broken blade deeper into wound.  
  
Even for me, that final attack was too much, and shock from the pain overtook my body. As I fell backwards, the man stared at me, a humorless smile curling his lips. A smile that didn't reach his cold beast eyes. Those piercing orbs were the last things I saw before darkness clouded my vision.  
  
I could lose myself in eyes like those. 


	2. Fangs Bared

From the what I'd heard around Tokyo, I was expecting a gruff, jaded man would looked as though he preferred to hit first and ask questions later. Or maybe not at all.  
  
What I _wasn't_ expecting was some kid. It almost made me laugh, that this was the type of company the Battousai now kept. The greatest assassin of the Isshin Shishin now associated himself with common street trash. This would be even easier than I had anticipated.  
  
But then again, living on the streets for more than half of one's life doesn't amount to nothing. The kid didn't believe me for a second, and within moments had grabbed my wrist, pointing out the palms roughed over by years of life by the sword.  
  
Hmph. So much for my subtle attempt. But subtle actions always worked better on subtle people, and this kid looked like he much preferred the direct approach. All it took were a few snide remarks, and a fire was lit under that kid's ass. It was almost admirable, really, the drive behind the kid. A pity I had work to get done, or I would've played with him longer.  
  
The punch was clumsily executed, easily dodged. However, it would be much more fun to let the kid think that he had easily defeated me. I wanted to see his reaction.  
  
It was priceless.  
  
\\Almost a shame, really.// I mused as the blade skewered his formerly unblemished skin. \\A waste of fine potential...but only potential, and not the reason I'm here.// The lunge had taken both myself and the kid into the sorry excuse for a dojo, via the wall.  
  
The sword, living up to its cheapness, broke off, allowing the kid to fall away from me and to the floor. I straightened up and surveyed the situation critically. It had been a good strike, missing anything that would seriously damage the kid, but harming enough to coax out of consciousness.  
  
Still, it would have been nice if he's held out a _little_ longer. As I turned to go, movement from behind told me the kid had found his feet. \\Impressive stamina, for someone so young and unexperienced,// I thought to myself. No matter, taking him down again would be no problem. Especially now that he had grown overconfident, now that my weapon had broken.  
  
No matter how intriguing a round of fisticuffs would be with a street fighter, there was no time for it. It was cruel, painful, heartless...and so easy. A look of surprised pain crossed that kid's face and the metal was pushed deeper inside him. Before he had time to form some biting comment, his body made contact with the floor, and he was still.  
  
Somehow, it didn't seem right just leaving him sprawled ungraciously on the floor. Not quite sure why I was doing it, I knelt down and untwisted him into a slightly more comfortable position. Doing so left a little bit of the kid's blood on my hand. I looked at the liquid for a moment, pondering. Then, like so many times in my former life, I sampled the taste of my prey.  
  
His blood was sweet.  
  
Just before crossing the threshold of the dojo, I turned back to look at the kid one last time. \\Soon kid, soon.// I promised silently.  
  
What I was promising, I had no idea. 


	3. Out of Touch

A long deserved peaceful day had finally been granted by some higher powers to the Kamiya Dojo and its occupants. It had been several weeks since the ship had arrived in the port of Tokyo, and ever since, not a day went by without some government official showing up at the gate. Soon, it was clear what their intentions were, that the plot and demise of Shishio Makoto were to never reach the ears of the general public. Disgusted, the young dojo owner had to endured the fat, wealthy politicians with their money-poisoned solutions, one after another, seeking to own Kenshin's loyalty.  
  
Finally, the steady stream of bribers thinned, and eventually came to halt on that blessed day. Kaoru gave a contented sigh as she finished her sweeping of the practice hall, leaning against the doorframe to watch Kenshin with his laundry duty. Everything was back to normal. Everything was at last.perfect.  
  
But.it was far too perfect, she realized. Even without plots to overthrow the government, minor conflicts were a part of everyday living too. And the majority of the conflicts came from a certain rooster-headed companion, whom she had not caught a glimpse of since their return.  
  
She cursed herself silently for not noticing this before. True, Sanosuke had seemed rather sullen on the trip from Kyoto, but Kaoru herself had suffered seasickness, and was not up for talking for much of the journey. She had only assumed that Sano had felt likewise. And with the constant barrage of visitors, her thoughts had not been on the ex-gangster's lack of visits.  
  
Not like she was terribly worried about him. If something life threatening had befallen Sano, surely they would have heard news of it. Surely.someone would come.  
  
"Kenshin!" she cried out, possibly more panicked-sounding than she had intended to. The rurouni turned away from the wet fabric before him to look at Kaoru, a small, worried frown creasing his face. "Yes, Kaoru-dono?"  
  
"Have.have you seen Sano at all lately? Maybe when you've been out shopping or something?"  
  
Kenshin straightened up from his squatting position, wringing his wet and soapy hands dry. "Hm.I have not seen him. It seems I always miss him when I check in on his apartment. But.his friend, Katsuhiro-san, I have talked to. He said Sano has been rather anti-social ever since our return, and that it looks like he hasn't been sleeping much at all."  
  
"Then shouldn't we." The girl's voice trailed of, unclear of what to say. Kenshin approached her and laid a hand on her shoulder, offering a gentle smile. "He'll be fine, Kaoru-dono. Sanosuke has seen things that would make any person want to withdraw. He is merely taking time to deal with a few things."  
  
The former assassin did not know the half of it. 


	4. Poor, Poor Sano

OK! I'm back everyone! Between sophomore year, a convention, and addictions to Naruto and Ragnarok Online, it's been hard to find time to sit down a write. But enough is enough, I say! No more procrastination! So here's a new chapter to tide you over until I write the next one.  
  
"Kuso!"  
  
The sharp clatter of glass hitting wood sounded throughout the small, dank bar, causing patrons to look up and stare at the angry young man, who was currently glaring at his right hand as though it had committed some terrible atrocity against him.  
  
Still completely useless...and Fox Lady not telling me how long it'll be...  
  
Sanosuke sighed loudly and resigned to holding the glass of sake with his left hand, still cursing his existence inwardly. As he tipped the rim of the glass against his lips, he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the taste of the fiery drink.  
  
Fire...no, no. It was no good. Anything, everything, reminded him of Kyoto. Of the fortress. And of a tall figure, clad in blue, silhouetted against the raging flames. But did it have to end that way?  
  
Unable to think clearly to the thick haze of alcohol, the ex street fighter closed his eyes and once again attempted to envision the scene. He'd played it over, a million times, looking for the flaw, the one spot where something could have changed.  
  
But no matter how many times he thought it over, there was no way, not without risking Kenshin as well. Too much of the bridge had collapsed, and time had been against them. No way Saitou could have made the jump...even if he wasn't messed up like that.  
  
But still...the old insect had said it himself...he'd been through way more than either Sano or Aoshi. He'd fought in the Bakumatsu, and he couldn't manage to clear the gap? Though this thought did not comfort him, Sano let out a rude snort.  
  
"Sir..." came a timid voice from across the wood partition he was leaning heavily against.  
  
"What?" snapped Sano, rather more aggressively than he intended to. He didn't feel particularly apologetic, however, and merely glared at the barmaid standing nervously across from him.  
  
"Sir...you're disturbing the rest of the customers. If you can't keep it down, you'll have to leave..." she stammered the words, avoiding his eyes. Truly, a drunk rooster was an intimidating thing. The young woman cried out in alarm as he bent over the bar and roughly grabbed her by the arm.  
  
"You...you don't tell me what to do, you hear! You can't...you won't..." he trailed off...the effort of forming coherent words too much for his intoxicated mind.  
  
"This kid bothering you, Kira-san?" A strong hand seized Sano's wrist, forcing him to release the poor girl. Sluggishly, he looked up into a pair of dark and unfriendly eyes. He faintly heard the same voice say, "I think you're done for the night, buddy.", then was grabbed by the back of his jacket and heaved outside.  
  
His body his the ground of the alleyway heavily, and he was faintly aware of laughter fading into the night. Sano clenched his fist and mumbled, "...you bastard..." before slipping into a place beyond consciousness, with not even his sake glass to keep him company.  
  
From the shadows, feral eyes watched. 


End file.
